To Tie the Bonds
by meechi
Summary: Harry Potter is in his 7th and final year at Hogwarts. People are changing around him... in a bad way.


Ginny listened intently outside her parent's bedroom door, eager to know the happenings that went on inside.  
"They are his family!" Mrs. Weasley shouted. "It could break their hearts!"  
"By what he told me on the phone, it would be 'great joy' to see him leave! It's a horrid horrid place, Harry lives in!" Mr. Weasley cried, leaning towards her, and taking in her hand gently, petting it.  
"Well alright. I don't suppose they know yet, do they?"  
"They're too busy having their noses turned up to notice he's even there," Ron rolled his eyes and turned up his nose in a snottily fashion. "His seventeenth birthday is coming up and they don't even know! They don't care an owl's hair whether he's alive or not!"  
"Well, we can go get him in the morning. But if those mongrels touch a hair on anyone's head, I'll be obligated to teach them a lesson." Mrs. Weasley held out her wand and showed it off, as if it were some sort of prize won at an auction.  
"Obligated my a-"  
"Ron!" Mr. Weasley interrupted. "How dare you speak such language?!"  
"Sorry mum, but you said it yourself once. No, not the word! You said that you'd 'love to put a curse on them one of these days!'" His mother looked at him strangely. "I listen at the door... can't help but listen." She still stared. "There's nothing else to do in this house!"  
"There's plenty to do here, and if some people helped out as half as much and I do, this house wouldn't look like it does! Now go to bed. We have plans for morning."  
"But mum-"  
"Now!" Ron looked at his father for support, possibly hoping he would let him stay.  
"Sorry Ron, listen to your mother now." said Mr. Weasley, and Ron slumped out of the room, pushing the door aside, knocking over Ginny. Helping her up, he turned back to his mother.  
"See?" he pointed out, "Listening!"  
"Bed! Both of you! Now!"  
  
Morning came and the Weasley family woke up, dressed, and went downstairs to meet up at the muggle car.  
"I'm hungry," Ginny stated sleepily.  
"We can eat when we get back with Harry," Mrs. Weasley told her, opening the back door of the car. Ginny and Ron crawled in.  
"But that'll take hours!" She shut the door.  
All the way there the two children complained and whined for food, driving their parents mad.  
"We're here!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed happily as they pulled into Privet Drive at ten o'clock that morning. Ron jumped out of the car, before it came to a complete stop, and racd up the driveway to the front door. The car came to a hault, and Ron's family swaggered out.  
"Hungry..." Ginny moaned, but her mother just rolled her eyes.  
Dudley answered the door. He gave both a petrified and angry look at them all right before Mr. Dursley opened the door wider with his massive purple hands.  
"What do you want?" he bellowed. Placing a friendly smile upon his face, Mr. Weasley extended his hand for Mr. Dursley's.  
"Hello, we've just come by to pick up Harry. We'll be off in a minute, may we come in?" Mr. Weasley said to him. Mr. Dursley slit his eyes and his face grew cold, but suprisingly he opened the door fully and allowed them to come in.  
"No point in refusing..." Mr. Dursley told them gruffly, "this is his last year in this house and believe it or not I might actually miss the scurvy old brat!"  
They looked around. The last time they had been in the Dursley house was in Harry's 4th year, when Mr. Weasley blew up half of their living room. The Dursleys had not forgotten that terrible incident, for the twins (Fred and George Weasley) had 'accidentally' dropped a piece of distorted candy they invented and Dudly Dursley ate it. His tongue swelled to an enormous size before the freightened Dursleys would get off the boy so Mr. Weasley could reverse it.  
Yes, it was a terrible experience for all of them. Mr. Weasley could feel the tension coming from Vernon Dursley as he walked past.  
"I like what you've done with the place," Ron lied, breaking the tense silence. Lying was an understatement. Not only did the house look exactly the same as it did the last time it looked when he was there, but there was nothing even remotely resembling anything to do with magic. The Dursley family despised magic, and could not help but wince and yell every time the word was spoken. Which also meant that they despised Harry's close friends being inside their own home.  
"Harry!" Mr. Weasley called, treading upstairs with his long cloak flowing behind him. "Harry, where are you?" He looked down the hall on the second floor. "Excuse me, but which is Harry's room?" Vernon Durley gave him a submissive look and glanced quickly at the small space underneath the stairs. Up until Harry's second year at Hogwarts, he had spent most of his days in that tiny cubboard. In other words, it was his bedroom. The summer before his second year, however, the Dursleys moved him upstairs into a much bigger space but with the same sense of home. Basically, all there was in the room was a bed, a cabinet for his clothes, and a desk in which his owl Hedwig was perched.  
"Er... first door to your right," Vernon told him, closing the front and jamming his fat purple finger in the process. Dudley stood pinned to the wall by the door, his mouth and eyes wide with freight and misunderstanding. Had his father really let these barbarrians into their comfortable wizard-free home?  
"Harry?" the people downstairs could hear Mr. Weasley calling as the sound of a door being opened echoed.  
"So..." Mrs. Weasley drawled, trying her best to be suitable and make coversation. "Er... your house is marvelously done. Muggle houses tend to be much dirtier than wizarding houses but this one is very clean indeed." She wiped her finger upon the railing of the stairs. Not a trace of dust came off. "Very clean indeed," she repeated.  
"Yes," Mr. Dursley replied, "Um... Petunia likes the keep the house as clean as possible. She hates any kind of dirt. Which is why-" he stared at the dirt footprints made by the Weasley family, "she's probably going to have a fit when she sees this."  
"Oh I'm dreadfully sorry about that, dear!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked, pulling out her wand. Both the Dursley men backed against the walls and held their breath. They did not want to be zapped. However, all Mrs. Weasley did was say a sort of spell under her breath and the floor was clean. The Dursleys gave huge sighs of relief, which could be made out by the bulges of their stomachs slowly moving downward. "Pardon me," Mrs. Weasley got Mr. Dusley's attention again, "my daugher Ginny is a bit hungry. Is it possible if we could go in the kitchen and get a bite to eat? The poor dear hasn't eaten her breakfast yet and both her and her stomach have been poking at me all day."  
Mr. Dursley gave a look of disgust. How dare they intrude inside his house uninvited, take Harry, and steal... eat his food!? But his look subsided and he gave a small nod, whimpering. He thought that as long as they were in his house, he could at least be civilized. After all, there were two fully grown wizards in their house that could make all the Dursleys toads at any time. Mr. Dursley hoped that they didn't steal Mrs. Dursley's precious china or anything else.  
He led the Weasleys into the kitchen where they helped themselves to conjuring up pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage, and a few foreign foods the Dursleys had never seen before. Ron pulled a box out of his pocket and started eating out of it. Dudley could see small jelly beans inside the windows of the box and immediately got scared. He didn't want any more ton- tongue toffees to ruin his life. Though he was a bit curious...  
"Want some?" Ron asked Dudley with a mouthfull of jelly beans, watching Dudley's eyes on the candy box.  
"W-what are those?" Dudley asked him, keeping his eyes on the box.  
"Bernie Bott's Every Flavor Beans," Ron replied. "They really do mean every flavor. Want any?" he asked again, holding out the box. Dudley hesitated and put his shaking hand inside the box and pulled out a few of the candies. They were of various colors ranging from the snowiest shade of white to the darkest of black. Dudley tried the yellowish looking one first but spit it out almost immediately.  
"Yuck! What is this mess? It tastes like earwax!" he spat.  
"Yeah," Ron said casually, chewing on a green one with a tart expression, "it prob'ly is." Dudley didn't try any more. Now he was eyeing the food prepard by Mrs. Weasley. The wonderful smelling vapors filled the kitchen and lingered through the living room ino the hallway. It then traveled upwards on the stairs and down another hall, making its way through every crevace under each door. Inside one of these doors, the first on the right, sat Harry Potter and Mr. Weasley. Harry was excitedly getting his things ready to go to the Weasleys', his heart pumping blood as fast as it could carry it.  
"Well you see, Harry," Mr. Weasley was explaining, "I never really realized how badly they treat you. A bunch of bloody ninnies I say!" Harry grunted in agreement while stuffing a large book into his trunk. For his birthday, Hermione bought him Hogwarts, A History. Very convenient considering she had been taunting them about it since their first train ride to Hogwarts. Harry had read the first page. The book wasn't actually half bad, though the print was a little small and harry had to wince painfully at it in order to realize each letter formed a word. "But you know," Mr. Weasley went on, "I don't recall them ever even speaking a decent word to me! I have no idea as to why I never spotted this sooner. I mean, I knew they were hard on you but..." he trailed off. "Hitting you across the face just because your wand falls out of your pocket? Unbelievable! Setting Dudley's head on fire is one thing, but just it falling out of your pocket? Disgraceful!" He stopped and gave a slight sniff to the air. "I see my wife is cooking," he said plainly with a glint in his eye.  
"What?" Harry didn't believe what he just heard.  
"My wife is cooking downstairs. I can always tell because she has this certain smell to her food. It's different, you know?"  
"Um.. Mr. Weasley, I don't mean to be rude but I seriously doubt Mrs. Weasley's downstairs cooking. Aunt Petunia wouldn't allow it! She would never let anyone else touch her stove lest they have a special reason to."  
"That's her. Ginny and Ron were hungry on the way over so I suppose- "  
"Ron's here?!" Harry had a sudden brightness that made his heart practically explode with excitement.  
"Yes, downstairs." Harry then dropped his cloak he was holding in his hands and raced out of the room, down the stairs, and into the kitchen where, indeed, Mrs. Weasley was cooking. Ron was propped up against the wall near the fridge holding a box of Every Flavor Beans. Ron smiled and held out the box, a mouth full of half of its contents already.  
"No thanks," Harry shook his head. He had had way too much experience with those candies . "How've you been?"  
"Um... alwight," Ron answered, trying to swallow down the jelly beans with a fixed expression. "You?"  
"Alright."  
"Harry, dear," Mrs. Weasley called, "come have some breakfast." Harry turned around to see plump Mrs. Weasley with her wand in her hand, summoning some salt from the counter. She shaked it heavily over the eggs in the skillet in front of her. Also, to Harry's suprise, he saw the two Dursley men. Dudley was staring at the food Mrs. Weasley was almost through preparing, and Mr. Dursley was fdgeting in a corner by the hallway, apparently keeping an eye out for Harry's Aunt Petunia. Harry walked casually over to his uncle.  
"Uncle Vernon?" he asked.  
"What is it?" Mr. Dursley growled, sweating bullets.  
"Where is Aunt Petunia?"  
"Upstairs in the shower," he muttered, looking illy depressed. Harry smiled. For once in his life, one of the Dursleys did right. He then sat down at the table where the food would soon lay and all of the children present (even Dudley, to Harry's suprise) would soon eat Mrs. Weasley's deliciously smelling food.  
  
*~*~*  
  
Only a half an hour past before everyone had finished eating and the dishes were magicked clean. The Weasleys thanked Mr. Dursley for their time and prodded Harry to the door. Harry could hear his Aunt Petunia humming upstairs. Mr. Weasley and Harry both lifted his trunk into the back of the car, slamming the door shut. Just before sliding into the backseat next to Ron, his uncle waved him over.  
"What?" Harry asked, clutching his heavy stomach.  
"I just wanted to tell you..." his voice trailed off.  
"I can't hear you. What did you say?"  
"I wanted to say that I... uh..." Mr. Dursley cleared his throat. "I'll mi-"  
"Vernon?" Mrs. Durley called from the upstairs hallway.  
"Go," Mr. Dursley told Harry as he waddled back inside and slammedthe front door shut behind him. Harry, very confused, climbed into the magic car and smiled deeply at his friend Ron.  
Meanwhile, back inside the house, Mrs. Dursley was coming down stairs in her bath robe.  
"Who on earth was that, Vernon?" she asked him with wide eyes.  
"Er... that stupid Weasley family. Came to get Harry," he replied.  
"Oh, well I'll go to the kitchen and make some lunch. You must be starving!" she hurriedly ran past them and into the kitchen now clean as it was before the Weasleys came.  
"No!" Dudley whispered to his father, "I've already had too much to eat already!"  
"You'll eat that food if I have to stuff it down your throat!" Vernon Dursley told him, and swept back into the kitchen. Dudley, whimpering, slumped behind him. 


End file.
